


there is nothing left to see but blood, dust, and debris

by DummyScreensAndMagazines



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DummyScreensAndMagazines/pseuds/DummyScreensAndMagazines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem with daemons is that they remember, even when their humans forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there is nothing left to see but blood, dust, and debris

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, so any and all mistakes are my own~

(you have to choose between hope and despair. both will destroy you and your human)

-

Your head hurts. There is a dog daemon slamming itself against the bars of its cage in the corner of the room. 

“What do you remember?” A man with a cold smile asks. You don’t know what to say.

The daemon yells “Bucky!” and—

_Walking down the street with the daemon at your side—_

_“Hurry up, Ruthie! Stevie is probably in trouble again”—_

_Crying into the daemon’s scruff, draft letter on the table—_

_“Don’t do anything stupid”—_

“Ruth? Where are we?” you ask.

A man with a gun slams it against the daemon’s head and everything goes dark.

-

Your head and neck hurts. There is a dog daemon slamming itself against the bars of its cage in the corner of the room. There is a chain around its neck that chokes it every time it hits the bars.

“What do you remember?” A man with a gun asks. You don’t know what to say.

The daemon gasps “No, no, Bucky, please,” and—

_“Bucky, Bucky, oh God, it hurts, Bucky, make it stop, please, Bucky”—_

_A brown haired girl laughing on the floor, trying to slap your hands away—_

_“Jesus, Stevie, stop complainin’! I think that beak of yours is broke again”—_

_Wind is roaring in your ears and your chest hurts and why is the daemon so far away—_

You look at the daemon and ask, “Where’s Stevie?”

A man with a cold smile presses sparking wires to the daemon’s cage. You both scream and everything goes dark.

-

Your head and neck hurts. There is a daemon slamming itself against the bars of its cage in the corner of the room. There’s a chain around its neck and a muzzle around its mouth. It chokes every time it hits the bars.

“What do you remember?” A man with a cold smile asks. You don’t know what to say.

The daemon is whining and growling. If it weren’t for the dust leaking from the edges of the muzzle, you would think it’s just some animal. The daemon lets loose a muffled scream and—

_You tune out her screaming to count the cracks in the ceiling again and again and again—_

_A dog daemon yelping as a lioness’s claws dig into her flank in a dirty alley—_

_Your skin crawling as the dog daemon digs her teeth into a German soldier’s calf—_

_A blonde man staring at a woman in a red dress and the dog daemon is sitting next to you so why does your chest hurt—_

“Where is my daemon? What happened to her?” you ask.

A man with a gun turns to the daemon in the cage. You don’t see what happens to it and everything goes dark.

-

Your head hurts. There is a daemon in a cage in the corner of the room. It doesn’t look right, as if the bones and muscles are in the wrong places. There is a muzzle around its mouth. You can see scaring across its face. The padlock on the cage is loose.

There are men in the room with you. They are not watching the daemon as it scratches and tugs at the muzzle. It falls off.

It whispers “Ruth,” and—

_Walking down the street, a feeling of rightness because Ruthie is the first to settle in your class—_

_Laying on the fire escape in the summer, Ruth still inside so you and Stevie don’t get overheated—_

_“You are worst, James Buchannan Barnes. How girls find you attractive I have no idea”—_

_It’s winter, Steve coughing as Ruth curls up at his side to keep him warm—_

The daemon, Ruth—why does she look so strange, have you really changed that much— pushes the cage door open. She smiles. The scars along her snout and face twist it. She looks mean. She bites the calf of a man with a gun. She’s pretty, you think, with blood on her teeth and screams in the air. The men in the room turn to her and start shouting. You don’t understand their language.

Ruth is running, shouting, “Let me go! Let me go!” Every step she takes hurts you more. So you turn inwards and reach for that place in your chest that hurts, the place where you and Ruth come together to be whole. You grab that thrumming feeling, close your eyes, and rug it free. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

You can’t feel anything.

-

(you choose hope)


End file.
